little talks
by hourglasshero
Summary: discontinued.
1. the alchemist's apprentice

Nymphs are nowhere near as cruel as the Oracle fables them to be.

Outside, she's explaining to children no younger than ten that the nymphs are blood-thirsty monsters that care for little to nothing else than the trees that shelter their home and, occasionally, the mutts that they allow to feed on their lands in exchange for protection (Mutts that the Oracle claims to be viciously abused by their deal makers, that is). She says that the nymphs are greedy and twisted, that they'll do anything to get what they want with the cost of a life at the palm of their hands, if that's just what it takes. They're cruel, cruel enough to rip humans from their homes and offer them to Algeroth without remorse as sacrifices no one can seem to wrap their heads around.

The Oracle plunges into explicit detail about the topic. Her tongue spews just what it is the nymphs subject their victims to, often using the most recent, Kagamine Rin, as an example. She says that one stole Rin away from her daily duties, attacked her, left her bloody and bruised, and brainwashed her into forgetting. (That wasn't the case, and the Oracle knows it; but her lies feed the town. Rin's words mean nothing to anybody. She's claimed to be brainwashed, after all. Who would bother to believe a brainwashed peasant?)

As Rin stares out the window of her home, hands soaked in suds and her thumb slicing itself on a loose shard of porcelain, she thinks that no one around here knows anything. No one knows anything about Algeroth or the Leering Wood or even nymphs, for that matter. No one knows anything about her, or the Oracle, the holy embodiment of a mystery all in its own, or the were* or the vampires or the elves. Ignorance is bliss, she supposes, which means her home is full of happy, oblivious morons.

Frowning, she withdraws her bleeding finger from the water, muttering expletives under her breath that her mother would scold her vehemently for had she returned from the marketplace on time today. Rin wipes the droplets of scarlet off on her light green tunic and narrows her eyes back out the window. The Oracle is still out there, reciting the same lecture she's been giving since the beginning of this week. She hasn't moved from that spot since noontime, and although Rin isn't quite certain what time it is now, she's certain it's been hours. It's starting to make her think that the Oracle is out there just to ridicule her.

Rin finishes cleaning what's left of the dishes, sparing occasional glances back out the glass panel in front of her. She can vaguely hear the Oracle's voice filtering through the surface. Again and again, the only thing that slips into her head is: _That isn't what happened._

And it's not. Rin remembers everything clearly, knows that he was too kind to have brainwashed her into another memory.

There's only one person to talk to about such a thing- about _him_ -and Rin, albeit with slight reluctance, pulls on her boots, grabs her staff, and leaves a note to let her sisters and brother know that she'll be with the Alchemist in spite of having the day off. He knows the nymphs better than anyone; he's the only intelligent person left in this world, it feels like (Next to herself, Rin thinks).

She closes the door fiercely behind her and sprints across the cobblestone path to the outskirts of town. When she passes the Oracle, she doesn't bother suppressing a distasteful sneer of contempt.

.

"You look like you could use a cup of tea," is the first thing he says when Rin arrives, panting, on his doorstep. He eyes her staff, then her face, and snorts, adding, "Or perhaps a lesson on teleportation? It's helpful, really."

"Tea...sounds fine," Rin breathes unsteadily.

He steps away from the threshold and invites her inside, shaking his mess of red hair from his scarred face. Rin follows him into the living room, where she sees a familiar, dozing frame on the couch, book open though downface in their lap. The Alchemist (he tells Rin to call him Fukase, but even as his apprentice, she can't bring herself to refer to one of the Greats as their actual name; it just feels _wrong_ ) gives the figure a pleasant look before seating himself at his mess of a workspace in the kitchen, gesturing for Rin to seat herself across from him.

She does. Instantaneously, she rifles through the herbs on his table, catching sight of a few batches she'd picked for him just the day before. Fidgeting absentmindedly with them, she spares the silhouette on the couch another glance before meeting the Alchemist's firm, scarlet gaze. "She's been here a lot lately," she notes.

"Kokone, you mean?" He grins, swiping the herb Rin has from out of her fingertips. He rests it in a pretty woven basket set in the corner of the table and musses his hair again. "Well, it gets lonely when you're not around. I need some kind of entertainment aside from your ramblings these days, wouldn't you think?" A hearty laugh escapes him, and he leans back in his seat, arms folded behind his head. "Speaking of ramblings...that's what you came here to do, no? Ramble?"

Rin nods, saying, "Yes. About the nymph."

The Alchemist huffs in irritation, though his smile betrays his amusement. "Is everything always about the nymphs to you?" he asks with a smirk.

Rin would hate to admit that that's the truth; she's been obsessed with the nymphs, or perhaps the Leering Wood altogether, since she was a child. She can remember meeting a beautiful silver nymph when she was no older than eight, being bestowed with flowers, having a night of dancing under the moonlight all to herself, speaking of it to no one after it was over. She can remember it like it just happened yesterday.

Just like she can remember _him_ , in perfect description, right behind her eyelids every time she blinks.

She sucks in a deep breath and asks, "Where's the tea?"

"Hm? Oh, I almost forgot." The Alchemist rises, dusting the grime off his trousers with shaking, pale hands. Rin has noticed he shakes a lot these days. She always believes it's an aftereffect of his battle with the wyvern that rid him of much of his magic. He says otherwise; he says he's just tired. To make things easier, Rin believes him rather than herself. She's his apprentice, so, in the long run, she kind of has to.

As he prepares the tea, he says bluntly, "So, the nymph...get to it. What about him?"

Rin tangles her fingers together on the counter and hunches forward awkwardly. "The Oracle is wrong," she says, "and I'm sick of everyone thinking otherwise."

"The Oracle, you say?" His tongue clicks noncommittally. If Rin knows anything, it's that the Greats all despise each other equally.

"Yes," Rin says, narrowing her eyes. "Since the entire predicament happened, all she's been spreading is nonsense about it. She says the nymph did it- that _he_ did it. But that's not true. I _know_ it's not true. He saved me. The _were_ was the one to attack me. I even have the scars to prove it." She tenderly brushes her wrist against the strips of cloth that cover her thighs and torso. Beneath them is a gruesome latticework of teeth and claw marks that no nymph could ever cause.

Clearing her throat, she continues, "I don't think the nymphs are dangerous, sir. Or even the Leering Wood. Everything the Oracle spews out of her petty mouth is just—it's just—"

"It's false," he intervenes. "That woman knows nothing _but_ false. It makes her feel protected."

"It's bothersome," Rin scoffs, bringing her arms taut to her chest.

The Alchemist sets a warm, steaming cup down in front of her, and sits back down, gritting his teeth as he settles into his seat. As Rin takes a sip of the tea (It's sweet, like candy. Just the way she likes it), he says, "So. You have yet to tell me the story, eh? You mention this nymph every day and you've barely told me how it happened."

"Ah, right." Rin's fingers tighten around her cup, absorbing any warmth that they can. The crisp autumn air just outside these walls is blossoming into winter quicker than Rin would want to admit. She can feel chills creeping up her spine at the mere thought of snow. "It's like this."

.

There had been rumors for months now that the were were growing overpopulated and manifesting in the Leering Wood in unlikely locations. Rin had registered it as nothing more than a harmless piece of gossip.

So she went into the wood to gather herbs, for the first time in years falling just as ignorant as her townspeople. Spring was coming to a close, and soon all of her opportunities at getting the proper herbs for her mentor and their potions would vanish. This was the fullest the plants would be for the next five or so months. She couldn't just walk away blindly and wait until next year.

But she should have. When the sun first started to set and the undergrowth around her started to rustle with something far larger than the common thrush, Rin knew very well that she should have stayed home.

There was a sound not unlike a howl, yet all the same too quiet to be one, and then there was a flurry of stormy grey emerging from the closing space of darkness, surrounding her to close it tighter. She was sure she screamed, that she dropped everything she'd gathered; she couldn't remember, though, a moment later, when a searing pain tore through her leg, another into her stomach. This—this _thing_ , it was _biting_ her; it was digging into her like she was a three course meal.

She attempted to writhe away, battering breathlessly at the ground, and what could have only been a paw slammed against her face and sent her vision into a blurry, haywire mess. Black and red clotted the air, the taste of iron flooding her mouth.

The were didn't relent. It was vigorous, and starving. It carved a trail down her hip, leaking blood all across her favorite slacks, destroying them with her body's own creation. Rin had never felt so useless, so weak. None of her magic would come to her. It stayed dormant in her core, fizzling with no way of escaping. She couldn't for the life of her call for it like she usually could.

For half a heartbeat, she thought: _I'm just like the Alchemist, up against something bigger and stronger than me, about to lose all my magic, aren't I?_

And just like that, the weight was gone, the _were_ was gone, and Rin was left discarded, a mess of her own flesh and blood on the lush ground of the Leering Wood. She peered up through her sweaty blonde bangs, expecting to see a hunter, or even more so, nothing. A phantom, at least.

What she saw was, undoubtedly and miraculously, a nymph. _Him_. Pale, his arms and legs wound in flowers and vines that disappeared discreetly into the folded fabric of his chiton. There were daisies in his hair, knotted into a ponytail at the back of his head, and Rin couldn't help but think right in between the lines of life and death that he was absolutely beautiful.

She let herself sink into the soil, facing the sky. If those were her final thoughts, then so be it.

But he confounded her, crouching at her side with an unnerved expression. Cautiously, his fingers, hot and buzzing with magic, grazed the skin of her throat. Rin jolted, the were-inflicted pain returning in her lower body (Where did that monstrosity go, anyway? What did he do with it?) as the nymph worked his magic into her.

"Are you...alright?" he asked. His voice was rough, and all the same lulling and gentle.

"Just dandy," Rin sputtered. A trickle of blood dripped from the corner of her mouth; the nymph scowled at it before brushing it away with the thumb of his free hand. Callouses, Rin realized. His hands were immensely calloused. Scabbed over, tattered, fragile (From what?). "The were," she added, squinting against the bright light of the sun. "Where's the were?"

The nymph slid his magic-infusing palm toward her chest. Rin yelped, back arching across the ground, and he apologized mellowly. Then: "Dead, I think."

Rin coughed through a half-hearted laugh, a vicious thrum reverberating in her wounds. "You think?" she echoed, sounding choked, but hopeful. Her family tended to tell her she was too optimistic sometimes. Rin didn't think so. Then again, Rin hardly thought anything at all when it came to them.

The nymph warily dodged the question and said, "You're going to have to come with me."

"I doubt I can walk," Rin retorted.

"I can carry you," the nymph said. He raised partially from his crouch, dipped one arm under Rin's neck, the other beneath her knees, and hefted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. And that's about the same time that the world bobbed artificially, crashed down around her, and submerged her in endless, pointless void of black.

.

She awoke on a bed made of leaves and damp fabric. It occurred to her that she'd magicked herself awake, considering she was prickling with the sparks of unspoken spells. She sat up abruptly, thin blankets drooping off to one side of the bed. Rin inched forward, glancing around for the nymph, and the blanket tumbled completely onto the floor. Grunting, Rin outstretched herself for it, only for a scorching heat to erupt in her abdomen and legs. She threw an arm around her waist, balance gone astray, and landed feebly on her shoulder against the hard wooden floor, a desperate cry escaping her lips upon impact.

Not once in her life had she ever felt something like this. An overwhelming laceration that bit into her magic and squeezed it out of her, bit by melted bit. (Was this what the Alchemist felt like?)

As she struggled to heave herself into bed again, footsteps padded hurriedly into the room, and there stood the nymph in all his glory, seagreen irises blown wide, mouth agape. A strand of straw-blonde hair fell into his eyes, but he made no attempt to swipe it away. Instead, he stepped toward Rin, slung an arm around her shoulder, and lifted her carefully to her feet. She slumped against him, chewing down hard on her tongue.

"You're burning up," he said.

"Magic," Rin explained, exasperated. "Something to do with my magic."

He quirked a brow at her, eventually choosing to relay nothing more. He led her out of the room and into what could have been a lounge, although it was rounded, a full circle, and smelled of pine and sap. Rin collapsed in the chair nearest the door, fingernails digging into the armrest as the nymph tentatively sat on the floor against the wall, one knee drawn up to his chest.

"You're a nymph," Rin blurted stupidly. She picked at the bloody bandages coiled mercilessly around her thighs.

He cocked his head. "Yes. And you're a human."

"Nymphs are supposed to be women," Rin said, "and blood-thirsty."

"Yes," the nymph replied, "and no."

Rin scrunched her nose. The nymph sighed, disgruntled, and continued with a toss of his head, "Nymphs aren't as bad as you humans make us out to be. I can assure you of that." He finally swiped the loose chunk of hair behind his pointed ear. There was a rose tucked behind it, too. Or maybe it was growing there naturally. "But...nymphs _are_ supposed to be women, usually. Maidens, as your kind calls them."

"You're no maiden," Rin muttered.

This coaxed a breezy giggle out of him. "No, I'm surely not." His smile faded, replaced by a look of distant sorrow. "I'm one of very few male nymphs. Three in this wood, myself included."

"You're a rarity."

"Something of that sort."

A beat of silence passed, broken when Rin asked quietly, "Hey—what's your name?"

The nymph glanced up from his twiddling fingers with a curious, "Hm?" before the question clicked and he answered, "Len. It's Len. And you?"

"Rin," she replied. "Kagamine Rin. From Calcherth."

Something in Len's countenance knotted. "I see," he muttered, tilting his head. His lips twitched into a lazy, failing endeavor at a smile. "You shouldn't stay here for much longer. It's not safe for either of us."

"Oh, uh." Rin cleared her throat, standing. She winced at the sharp pain that vibrated in her body, shaking it off feebly. With enough magic, she was sure she could make it home unwinded. "Right. Thank you for the assistance, Len. I owe you one," she said with a feeble bow.

A simple wave of his thorny hand disregarded the offer. "No, you owe me nothing. Have a safe trip home."

 _Home_. It sprung to mind that Rin had no idea where they were currently (She was starting to wonder if perhaps they were in a tree), and by no means did she know how to return home. She peered awkwardly at Len and raised her shoulders. "Um. Where...is home, exactly?"

Len sighed, but his face had gone light with graceful emotion again. "Come on," he said, heading for the wooden door.

"Lead the way," Rin replied in a murmur, and stepped after him into the warm clutches of fading daylight.

.

The Alchemist stares at Rin in what could be admiration or shock or disgust for a long while. With him, it's impossible to tell what he's thinking or feeling. He wears a mask constantly, seldom bothering to take it off. Slowly, the mask crumples as a grin creeps over him, enthusiasm broiling beneath his skin that sends tinges of red magic pooling out of him in fluttering waves. "And you're sure he didn't manipulate you into this memory?"

"Positive," Rin says, furrowing her brow and bringing the rim of her teacup to her lips. From the couch, Kokone stirs, groans, and lolls lazily onto her side, knocking the book to the ground with a muted _thud_. Rin exhales and focuses back on the Alchemist, taking a sip of her tea. "You seem really thrilled over this."

"I am," he replies, resting his chin on his fist. "Goes to prove that _we're_ right, eh? The nymphs are good, and—"

He's interrupted by a puff of pink clouds and glitter that slowly fades into Kokone's coughing form, the inside of her elbow pressed firmly to her lips.

The Alchemist's eyes water as he turns to her and wheezes, "Waste of magic!"

Rin blocks her nose and Kokone bats, squinting, at the air around her, still hacking violently into her sleeve. "It was practice!" she chokes out.

"Failed practice!" the Alchemist protests. Across from him, Rin raises her staff and aims blindly, hissing, " _Praeverro_!" In a blur of color, the cloud and the glitter fades, leaving in its wake only Kokone, wiping her eyes and chewing down a smile nervously with her teeth to her lip.

The Alchemist flicks her in the temple and says, "New rule: No magic inside unless it's for _alchemy_."

Kokone pouts but doesn't argue, just flops down in the seat next to him and rests her head on his shoulder. He cracks a grin and slings an arm around her dainty shoulders, and Rin's cheeks heat; she can't help feeling that she's interrupting something intimate and private. (Not to mention she didn't even know that their relationship was...well, that it was _this_.)

Her rambling is over, though, and she has everything that was on her chest off of it, which means she can leave now, and this strange atmosphere can be deserted. She finishes her tea off in a large, final swig and hops out of her chair. "I should be leaving," she says.

Kokone's brow furrows. "So soon?" she asks, resting a palm against the back of the Alchemist's knuckles. "I just got to see you, Rinny."

The Alchemist tugs her a bit closer, and Rin forces herself not to hurl. She holds her staff closer to her tunic, turning toward the exit of the abode with an urgent, "Not today! Next time!" that is soundly drowned out by a jittery shout of, "Don't forget about tomorrow!"

The door closes behind Rin. She turns on her heel, and she runs.

.

Somehow, Rin finds herself in the wood, casting spells against the bark of a dying tree in a failing attempt to revive it. Since the attack in this same place only weeks ago, her magic hasn't been the same. She's heard that the were, alongside wyverns, trolls and goblins, have the ability to strip any creature of their magic, whether that be a portion or the entirety of it. They can rob it like it's gold, take as much or as little as they just so desire.

Rin never quite thought twice of it until the Alchemist, and then herself. It's a part of her now, and so many others; being drained.

She grits her teeth and directs her staff toward the trunk of the tree again, bellowing, " _Subortus!_ " Pale yellow sparks hitch on the curve of her staff, prickling in eagerness for escape before dying out and slithering into the wood once more. Rin can feel it recede up her veins, locking itself in ornery denial.

She curses aloud, stomps her foot, and drags a hand through her hair.

"Quite the talent you've got there," a chiding voice claims from behind her, and Rin jumps six feet out of her skin. Her staff tumbles limply from her grip into the pale green grass beneath her. A jarring laugh greets her shortly after; her ears and eyes work together to trace it, and she finds, both to her surprise and pleasure, Len leaning against a nearby oak with his arms crossed at his waist. He grins at her, lips cherry red.

"Len," is all she can say. To be perfectly honest, she wasn't expecting to see him again. No one sees the same nymph a second time (That's...what the Oracle says, at least, though Rin is starting to realize her information is worthless). "...You're back."

He shrugs. "A coincidence."

Rin turns toward him and frowns.

Len raises his palms in surrender, green nails catching the glow of the setting sun. "Okay, so maybe I've been... _patiently waiting for you to return._ But it's important."

Rin tenses. Importance outside making potions doesn't seem like it applies to her.

Len takes a hesitant step forward, then back, and, finally, forward again, until he's standing in front of Rin and is taking her wrist. His countenance is confused—twisted as if he doesn't quite know what he's supposed to be experiencing in this moment. One of the thorns of his palms pricks Rin and draws blood, eliciting a brief wince and silent yelp between her clenched teeth.

Either the nymph doesn't notice or he doesn't care; he squeezes Rin's wrist tighter, peering into her eyes with an endless pool of green and blue, arguing viciously against one another.

He says, nervous and panicked, "I need your help, and if you refuse, then this forest, Calcherth and everything in between be damned. Algeroth is furious and you're the only one of your kind that I can trust right now without accidentally doing something I'll regret."

Rin almost says no, right off the bat, and thinks Len can tell, because he grips her thin wrist tighter, desperate. Trembling. "You owe me," he whispers.

At Rin's side, her staff bursts to life with a flurry of sparks, and the tree she'd been trying to revive flourishes with sudden extravagant vigor. Amid all of it, Len is still touching her, eyes boring into her soul.

She has no idea how to process any of these things.

* * *

 **This idea has been on my mind for a really long time now. It was originally gonna be a twoshot, but...I think it's gonna be a full-length fic at this point, though with shorter chapters than what I'm used to to keep updates frequent.**

 **There's going to be a lot of pairings in this, either blatantly stated or subtly incorporated. ;0 Something I wanted to mention, considering a lot of the pairings are going to be unconventional/uncommon ones!**

 **I should state I'm not too good at first chapters, and have no idea where to start or stop, and fantasy is something I haven't written for in a long while, so, uh. I'm kind of all over the place with this but I'm trying! I have a set idea on where this is going to go, so stay tuned. And considerably, I'm working on a new(ish?) writing style for this. Also, I apologize for any grammatical/spelling errors.**

 **Thanks for reading, anyway! Leave a review if this is your thing, and if not, tata~.**

 ***** when "were" (pronounced: where) is used as a noun in this story, it's referring to creatures with the prefix "were", as in werewolves, although there are other species considered to be "were", and thusly the entire term is shortened to "were" alone. it can refer to werewolves, werefoxes, werecat: any type of mammalian creature that can shift between humane and animal form.


	2. the corruption of algeroth

The air around them feels far more frigid when they're sitting alone together beside the calm hush of a quiet pond, their knees just shy of touching, Len's fingertips grazing over his contorted reflection with suppressed awe. One of the many flowers blossoming from deep underneath his skin loses a soft lavender petal that flutters lazily in the wind before securing itself atop a lily pad. Startled, a frog releases an alarmed croak and hops into the water, vanishing beneath its bright blue surface.

Rin sucks in a deep breath as if to break the silence, cuts herself short, and lets the gentle breeze whisk her soundless words away from her. She doesn't know what to say, and beside her, Len appears to be struggling as well.

After some time, when the sun has become a blazing ball of light above the horizon and the sky is dyed a heavy shade of orange, Len withdraws from the water and faces Rin, elbows resting on his knees. "It's a long story," he says curtly, "but it's best I start from the beginning. Please bear with me."

Pursing her lips, Rin gives a knowing nod and curls her knees into her chest. Her wrist continues to thrum with a foreign magic that seems far from dissipating. She cradles it in between in her thighs to soothe it, but it does little in assisting.

Len is oblivious. His expression grows solemn, his attention averted once more to the pond. He's evaluating his other self behind a false nonchalance. "Nymphs are immortal, and humans are not. It's the basic element to balance in these woods, but your kind has the tendency to forget that," he says. The flower that lost is petal loses its own hold completely and lands in the water, the ripple shattering through Len's reflection's eyes. He frowns and continues, "When a nymph withers and can no longer carry on with its duties, it does not die but recycles itself into a seed and is replanted, then reborn as a new self.

"Humans, on the other hand, are gone when they are gone, and nothing—not even black magic—can revive their lost souls. They are gone forever."

"I know this," Rin interjects quietly. She feels small, suddenly. With the burden of her own death a plausibility in some near future, the universe seems to be ten trillion times bigger.

Len sighs and tries to smile. It dies immediately. He says, "Humans should love humans and Fae should love Fae. That is an unwritten rule amongst us forest folk that we disregard. Sometimes, the humans do, too. In fact, they do it even more so than we do. We fall in love. Humans fall in love with us and we fall in love in return with the fear of losing them, and having to live our eternity without ever knowing them again. One life after another, wishing theirs' could be recreated." He plunges a hand fully into the water, eliciting a gasp from Rin as he withdraws a clump of magenta lotuses. Their stalks dangle lifelessly at his elbow.

It's the flower of detachment, Rin can recall from the Oracle's lessons when she was a mere child. Of purity in the body, the mind and speech. Desire. She stares it, considering for a long moment. Whatever point Len is attempting to make, she isn't certain she's prepared.

"There was once a human who loved a nymph so dearly she came into these woods day upon day in search of her. And she would find her, and the nymph would steal her away to a clearing to dance with her and enlighten her with tales of danger and lust and the brewing hatred of her King. And the human would tell the nymph of her dreams, her hopes to speak to spirits and follow in the steps to become something more than a simple apprentice."

Something clicks distantly in Rin's mind. She bites down vigorously on the chapped skin of her lip to drown out the rapid fire beating of her heart.

Len notices her astriction and releases the lotuses, allowing them to tumble into the water once more. "Slowly, they fell in love, but the nymph grew wary of hurting the human. Their relations were forbidden and the Order's cruelty and injustice was brewing into a storm. So at the human's proposition that they run away together and abandon this world, side by side, the nymph denied. She rejected the girl she'd grown to love, for both of their sakes. For safety.

"The girl shed her skin like a snake. She became a ghost, a shell of everything she'd once been. She became the Oracle, and in disgust for the lover that had abandoned her, she ridiculed against the Fae, against nymphs. And then..." Len's expression darkens in a way Rin has never even seen the sky itself do before.

He looks up and speaks with an unnaturally quiet sense of malice and fury that makes his shoulders quake. "She killed her own apprentice and framed his death on the nymph that he fell in love with."

Rin kisses her teeth. "That nymph was someone you knew, wasn't it?" she asks.

Len slouches into himself. The curvature of his narrow spine is prominent through the tight thread binding of his shirt, vines poking into the skin of his arms as they wrap around his knees. "No," he says, squeezing his oceanic eyes shut against the evanescent rays of sunlight slipping in between trees on its descent to nighttime. "It wasn't someone I knew." His chest heaves with the intensity of his inhale, and he allows his eyes to blink open. They are sullen and desperate. "It was me."

A beat of silence passes as Rin tries, somehow, to comprehend this. It doesn't fully register until Len is staring further into her eyes than a sword could pierce. He says evenly, "I was the nymph that he fell in love with. I was the nymph framed for his death."

"But the Oracle wouldn't kill someone," Rin says breathlessly. That woman may be narcissistic and cruel and enraptured by her fantasies of oppression, but she's not insane. She's not murderous.

Len's voice is ice when he replies, "Then you know nothing about her."

Rin hates to succumb to the fact that she's wrong, but, as reality stands, she is. The Oracle is a obscure enigma to her, nothing more than a memory of her childhood that reemerges time and time again with her narcissism and cruelty and the likelihood that she could very well be insane and murderous. It's really not her place to judge the Oracle—never has been—yet here Rin is, judging immensely.

The Oracle killed her apprentice. The Oracle killed Len's lover. Len's human lover. And it makes so much sense. But it doesn't.

Rin's temples are aching. Her brows draw across her forehead, her head cocking at Len as her mouth falls agape. She spits out the only words she can uncover from deep within her deceitfully tranquil tongue. "What does any of this have to do with Algeroth, Len?"

"I'm getting there," he replies sharply. It nearly takes Rin aback, but she understands his anxiety over the matter (She's honestly nervous enough to combust in the middle of these woods, not that she would admit that) so she sits patiently beside him and waits.

Len runs his knuckles over his sweaty forehead. "The nymph of the Oracle's affection—Ia, her name is—because of her affiliations with a human, she was contaminated." He glances at Rin, frowning. "Do you know what that means?"

"Vaguely," Rin says.

"It means she began to wilt. She began to rot," Len explains, a hint of repressed terror in his voice, "because of Algeroth, and the oath all nymphs—perhaps all Fae—are ordered to swear to him. It's that oath that ensures their immorality, or their sustainability, as well as their loyalty to their King. It's his way of controlling them, controlling _us_.

"When particular Fae disobey or betray him, they suffer the consequences for their treachery. Take a nymph such as Ia for demonstration; when her scandal with the Oracle was overheard by Algeroth, the magic behind her oath snapped. She rotted. She decayed into an imp, becoming one of many servants to Algeroth and his liege."

The words are heavy in Rin's thoughts. She grips the hem of her tunic roughly and shakes her head in disbelief. "But if she were to rot by the hands of Algeroth for her sins with a human, then—"

"I should have too, right? That's what you're thinking?" Rin nods, and Len scoffs, his expression scornful. "It's true, essentially, but I...made a deal with Algeroth. To preserve myself. Because I'm selfish. So selfish. I wanted to live to avenge what rightfully belonged to me. I suppose I still do, but..."

When he doesn't say anything more, Rin prompts him with a nudge to his bicep and a delicate, "But what?"

"But," Len mumbles. "But I didn't know that Algeroth is an unforgiving monstrosity with no remorse for anything because he has no concept of emotions. Absolutely none."

This actually startles a laugh from Rin. She tries to hide it with her palm but fails, and lets her humor fade naturally. Len just gazes in what could only be yearning at the pond, at his reflection, waiting for Rin to settle. Then he says, "Algeroth stripped me of everything so I could have this...this _chance_. He stripped me of my family, he stripped me of my dignity, he stripped me of my rights, he _nearly_ stripped me of my home, but I managed to _at least_ keep that.

"And if losing all of that wasn't enough, he arranged the deal itself: I track down his half-human child, kill them, and deliver their corpse to him. If I can accomplish that before the first moon of the new year, he'll allow me to contain the magic of the oath. He'll prevent me from wilting."

"So, what?" A flicker of doubt is burning in Rin's throat that she can't swallow. "In these next few moons, you're just...going to use that time to kill the Oracle? To avenge the...the boy you loved?"

Len averts his gaze. "No. I don't have _nearly_ enough power to even lay a finger on the Oracle. Just being in Calcherth drains me of energy. That's initially what Algeroth planned, so I can't take advantage of the short time he's bestowed upon me. Once I give to him what he wants, he gives to me what I want: power. Magic. Enough magic to rip the Oracle apart and avenge Kaito."

"This is...complicated," Rin whispers.

Sighing, Len slumps his shoulders. "I know," he says in defeat. "But Ia tells me that there's a building army of Fae rising against Algeroth. If they manage to actually kill him before the deadline of our deal, then I'm going to die without ever getting to see the life drain out of Miki's bloody awful face."

"The Oracle, you mean."

"Doesn't matter. It's not like she even deserves the title anyways, that filthy piece of _hypocrisy._ "

Rin sits up and tilts her head back at Len. "Let me get this all straight," she says. "The Oracle was rejected by a nymph, so she turned against all Fae-kind alike, which led to her killing her own apprentice and framing it upon you, his lover."

Len noticeably tenses at the word _lover,_ thought he doesn't deny it.

"You've thusly broken an oath that could have possibly turned you into an imp, similarly to Ia, had you not made a deal with Algeroth, the practical King of the forest. A deal that requires you to find a half-human, half-Fae child that is very well his heir—do you even know where this heir may _be_?—all the while living off of a temporary life he's feeding to you, and you have approximately three moons to do this, but a feasible army could rid you of the opportunity. And you're going through this entire mess to...kill the Oracle? To avenge—...Kaito, was his name?" Rin squints, running a clammy palm down her face. This is hectic.

"You didn't have to summarize it," Len mumbles. "I...I _clearly_ said all of that."

"You could have just summarized it from the very start. It would have made things easier."

"It wouldn't have made less sense to you is what it would have done."

Rin heaves a sigh and rubs absently at her cheek. "I don't understand why you'd go through all that trouble to avenge someone. Nor do I understand why in Fate's name you want _me_ of all people to help you find the child of Algeroth. I don't understand."

"But you agreed to help me regardless," Len says, "because _you owe me_. This is important. If Algeroth doesn't get what he wants by then, he has the potential of blowing Ethres to bits, Rin, don't you get that?" He turns to her now, urgency scribbled sloppily across his features as he seizes her by her shoulders and offers up an intense hope to her. She feels her heart skip a beat in both fear and amazement. "Rin, if it wasn't me to find his child, it could have been someone else. Anyone. Ia, for all we care.

"No matter who he's hiring to do his dirty work, _someone is still doing it_. And it just so happens to be me this time. This provides me with not only the liberty of saving what could be all of Ethres but also protecting what means the world to me. I need enough time to be not only a guardian, but to be a voice of reason against the idiocy of your kind," Len is saying, but Rin is barely hearing him anymore. The world is doing that thing again, where it feels so much bigger than it can possibly be.

"Why me?" Rin asks.

Len's eyes dazzle with the desire of wanting to scream for half a heartbeat. They slowly dissipate into maddening candor. "Because I trust you," he says appallingly, "and because you're like me, aren't you? You'd like to avenge someone. You'd like to see the Oracle wither just as much as all those she's allowed to perish with the same fate."

Rin isn't quite sure how he can make such a bold statement without even a hint of evidence. But for a second time, he's right. She'd love to see that arrogant look get swiped off the Oracle's face. It's a horrid thought, but one she can't seem to release once it's there, locked up in her thoughts.

She swallows. When she does, she can feel his magic pulsing from his fingertips into her skin and she thinks: _Is this why? Is this why it's me?_

There's a chance he could have felt this connection in their magic the day he saved her (Had that only been little over a week ago? It's beginning to seem like an eternity), and hunted her down to renew the tie afterward. But Rin has little solicitude for paltry things like that.

She focuses on Len's eyes and believes him when he tells her that it's _because she's like him_.

She really does.

"So?" Len asks. He isn't removing his hands; there's still that stinging but somehow sublime sensation of his magic running through Rin's veins. She's ashamed to admit she likes it. The absence of her own magic has made her feel hollow lately, but now that the void is being filled, it just feels...right. "Will you help me?"

 _You owe me._

She wants to say she doesn't owe him a damn thing.

But she really does.

"Okay," Rin says softly. Beneath her, flowers are blooming and the grass is tickling up her calves. Her (Or is it Len's?) magic is flowing out of her in pulses, charging the area into brilliant greenery around her. It's bliss. Utter bliss. She's reluctant to pry Len's hands from off of her shoulders, but the overwhelming magic is making her dizzy. "But under one—maybe two—conditions."

Len almost reaches out to steady her with a curious, "Hm?" but Rin brushes him off. He's too giddy for his own good, too excited over her agreement to assist him. "What is it?" he asks once he's awkwardly recoiled away, hiding a nervous smile that doesn't quite suit him.

"One, we figure out how to work whatever—" Rin shrugs and points at her shoulders "— _this_ is. This connection."

"And two?" Len asks, as if their odd magical bond isn't the bigger of any other proposal Rin can suggest.

"And two," Rin starts, "is that you tell me more about Kaito."

Len opens his mouth to say something (Likely to reject) but he's interrupted by a screeching holler of what sounds like an ogre in the distance. He freezes, and Rin is quick to her feet, gathering her staff from off the ground, sparks buzzing around her fingertips into the wood.

"You need to go," Len says, peering up at her. His eyes are blown wide, but not with fear; it's with disappointment. It's like he wants Rin to stay (So maybe he _does_ want to talk about Kaito). But Rin is in no position to help him fight just yet.

The sun is setting, too, and the air is growing thicker. It's about time to part ways.

"Three days," Len adds before they can bid each other farewell. "The Fae Festival is in three days. Come to it. Meet me there." He swipes his tongue over his lower lip. "And...and I'll tell you about him."

"Good," Rin responds softly. "I'll see you then."

"Right." Len bobs his head just as a second defiant bellow shatters the moment. A murder of crows squawk as they burst out of the treetops and fade as wild silhouettes into the sunset. The nymph rises, finally, and addresses Rin with a graceful bow. "Have a safe trip home."

"I will," Rin says, and she's gone before either of them can exchange a proper goodbye.

.

The Fae Festival is hosted every full moon. It's a momentous occasion, flooded by the Fae of the forest that gorge themselves on delightfully crafted meals and dance until their knees buckle and they can no longer stand. Elves play extravagant music that no mortal could ever imitate, will-o'-wisps string themselves in between tree branches like lanterns, hamadryads and dwarves reconcile with stories from thousands of years ago.

Rin shouldn't know of this, yet she does. Humans typically aren't invited to the Fae Festival, aren't welcomed, because times have change. The many years ago when Rin had attended with the beautiful silver nymph that had guided her, everything had been different. Perhaps it was then that Len and Ia weren't exiled, Kaito wasn't dead, and the Oracle wasn't manic.

The Fae Festival is beautiful and enticing and she shouldn't be there to witness such a thing three days from now.

As she's laying in bed that night, her youngest sister Yuki curled against her chest after complaining about a nightmare for the third time this week, Rin thinks she's too exhausted to go in to work for the Alchemist tomorrow. Today's events have stirred her, unnerved her.

She can't sleep.

Yuki twitches in her arms, releasing a whining protest that halts abruptly when Rin strokes her hair and nuzzles her nose into the smaller girl's forehead. It's cold, but Rin is warm—always is—and it's comforting, somehow, knowing that for just one person at a time she can be something greater than what she is.

The numbers of people is piling up. She needs to be greater for her entire family now, for her parents, for Yuki, for Len, for Fukase ( _The Alchemist_ , she scolds herself, _have some respect, imbecile_ ).

For herself.

Rin closes her eyes, but slumber doesn't come easily. She's awake all night, rethinking through she and Len's entire conversation. Through every action they displayed in the other's direction.

When dawn strikes, Yuki wriggles out of her arms and darts out of the room, calling for their mother. Rin jolts upward, swings her legs over the side of her bed, and stretches her aching back. The day is waking her with a whispering, beckoning hand that she can't neglect.

If not for Len, she'd think that it was time to repeat the same routine she repeated every day, to relive the same life she always relived.

For once, that just isn't the case.

* * *

 **Hi and it's midnight and this chapter is really short and full of dialogue. Which makes up basically the really weird and complicated plot. And yes, I mentioned KaiLen. I couldn't resist. There's also going to be KaiMei mentions though because I couldn't resist that either. Next chapter will be longer! and more interesting. Promise. I got things in sTORe. Fae FestivALS WOO.**

 **Thanks for reading! Leave if a review if that's your thing, yo! If not, adieu m'dudes.**


	3. the fae festival

On the morning of the Fae Festival, a sparrow greets Rin at her windowsill. Yuki is still curled against her chest, as she has been every night lately, and the sun has barely risen over the horizon. The sparrow is just sitting there, head inclined curiously.

It takes Rin a moment to realize there's something clasped tightly in its beak.

She flails purposelessly for a heartbeat, then scoots past Yuki and sits up. She reaches for the bird tentatively so as not to startle it, but it doesn't appear to mind. It simply squawks and drops the item into Rin's outstretched palm, then unfurls its wings and takes to the sky before Rin has the chance to thank it (Although, attempting to thank a bird is a little weird).

The item turns out to be a tiny scroll of paper, tied with a neat red ribbon in its middle. Rin spares Yuki a glance before undoing the scroll, smiling upon seeing who it's been addressed from.

 _Rin,_ it reads in messy scrawl, _it's Len. You have not forgotten about tonight, have you?_ (As if she could.) _There is a great treefolk oak near your home. I will meet you there and we will attend the Festival together. Do not arrive any—_ here, Rin has to flip the note over— _sooner than dusk. Thank you, and I eagerly await seeing you then. Also, bring your staff._

Rin purses her lips. Reflecting back upon it, she thinks she remembers that the night of dancing she experienced with the silver nymph had been a Fae Festival, too, and even then the Fae had cast her looks of speculation and disdain. With everything that's led up to now, she doesn't doubt that they'd still feel that way; cautious of her presence. Not bringing her staff would just lead to Len having to protect her in the not-so-unlikely chance that something went wrong. After the fatal attack he saved her from, she wants to prove to him that she can fight just as well as he can...usually.

If her magic wasn't so _wonky_ then she could have proven it to him long ago, but _no_ , it's been no help at all and Rin is certain that it isn't going to start cooperating any time soon. Regardless, she's still going to bring her staff, as per requested, and if she can't use her magic, then. Well. She can just whack someone upside the head with it. Same effect.

Rin wriggles out of bed shortly after that, tousling Yuki's hair in good merit before dressing and heading for the kitchen. Leon and Galaco are already awake, groggily wrestling for bread, yawning between half-hearted arguments. Last night was their typical sibling-friendly match to practice spells on one another, and, being the mature older sister she is, Rin had stayed far, _far_ out of it. She and Yuki read books instead, which was preferable. With anyone other than the Alchemist, Rin hasn't felt much motivation to attempt magic. Though, when she sees Len tonight, she might have a slight change of heart.

To feel that surge of borrowed magic again would be like a dream come to life, exhilarating and breath-taking, willing to swipe the air right out of her lungs.

Rin strides toward her siblings feeling a sudden burst of energy. They glance up at her with bleary eyes, and Galaco manages through a mouthful of bread, "Are you goin' to work today?"

"For a little while, yes," Rin says, thinking and rethinking over that note Len sent her. She feels the urge to tell the Alchemist about this while they work today, yet all the same she isn't sure she wants outside ears (Such as Kokone) to hear. She considers this vastly as she snags a slice of bread from in between Leon's fingers and takes a bite, ignoring his whinny of stammering protest. "Where are Mom and Dad?" Rin adds, raising an eyebrow at her sister as she shoves Leon's face away.

"Uh, don't know?" Galaco responds with a shrug. "Mom's at the market, I'd assume, and Dad...? Well, you can never be sure with Dad."

Rin scoffs and sidles toward the doorway, sliding on her boots and scarf. She adjusts the bow atop her head while she's at it, mindlessly hoping it still doesn't look too childish. She snatches her staff, eyes her siblings and says, "Remember to take care of Yuki while I'm gone."

"Yeah, yeah," Leon mutters, waving her off dismissively.

"I'm serious," Rin says. "And no...magic wars or whatever while I'm gone either, understood?"

"You're only jealous 'cause you can't participate anymore," Leon quips, and it's enough that Galaco smacks him hard on the back of the head.

Rin sighs and opens the door. "Behave," she says in the threshold.

"Mhm," Galaco says as she shoves another piece of bread into Leon's mouth to shut him up. "Don't die at work!"

"Ha, ha." Rin rolls her eyes. "I won't. Don't burn the house down."

Galaco goes frantic, appalled, throwing her arms in the air. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" she groans.

"To be fair," Rin says, "you two won't let me live down the entire magic ordeal."

"Yeah, but—" Galaco frowns, drumming a finger against her lips. Eventually, she relents and bids Rin a hurried farewell.

A smile works its way into Rin's countenance. She steps out the door with a pleasant, "Have a good day, you two," and closes it before they can pester her for any longer. Rin dawdles outside, checking her surroundings, breathing in the stale air of autumn until she's prepared and has her mind set on a decision. With that, she's off, roaring down the streets with a cloud of dust trailing after her, feeling more alive than she has in a long time.

.

To say the least, the Alchemist doesn't take Rin's information about Len and the Fae Festival very well. In fact, the baskets of herbs he'd been cradling in his arms crashed to the musty wooden floor upon hearing it, and, rather than picking them, he's found interest in staring into Rin's cringing expression instead.

"You...what?" he says, disbelieving.

"Well," Rin says, touching the back of her neck. "Uh. Len invited me to the Fae Festival. You're mad?"

"Not—mad," the Alchemist says coolly. Rin waits for the _Just disappointed_ part of it, but it doesn't come; he bends to the floor and scoops up the herbs, rises, and quirks a brow. "You do realize how dangerous the Fae Festival can be toward us mortals, don't you? And you're in hardly a condition to defend yourself."

So as not to have to look the Alchemist in the eyes, Rin busies herself with assembling various leaves into a pile. "Len is—he's willing to protect me, sir. I can trust him to ensure nothing happens to us," she says.

The Alchemist sighs, setting a handful of herbs down on the countertop. For once, he's displeased with the topic of the nymphs, which both irks and baffles Rin; she has a right to trust Len, and she'd think that after what both she and the Alchemist endured from other Fae, he, of all people, would understand where she's coming from. She has half a mind not to jab a finger into his chest and lose her apprenticeship for forgetting to hold back her temper over something as dull as this.

"Sir—"

"Fukase," the Alchemist corrects, and Rin winces. She still hasn't gotten to used to that.

"Fukase," Rin says slowly, clearing her throat. She finally turns to look at him and finds that he's looking right back, blood red eyes warm, but bitterly on edge. "It's going to be fine, _I'm_ going to be fine, and—"

"I should send Kokone to heed you. Just in case."

"What? No—no, Len wants me to come alone. That would just be endangering Kokone anyways, wouldn't it? Neither of us would want that."

The Alchemist tenses. "Of course we wouldn't," he murmurs.

"Speaking of Kokone," Rin says, desperate to speak about something else (Which is odd; that seldom happens with the Alchemist), "shouldn't she be here right now?"

"Don't try to change the subject on me, Rin," he says with a huff, flicking her ear. He shifts to face their ingredients, a little flustered. "She's out running errands. She offered to prepare lunch later, so...I mean, I didn't have any supplies, and I didn't want to reject, and...That's all." He purses his lips and reveals a small cauldron from one of the cabinets above him, sending Rin the typical vibe that they aren't alchemists, but fairytale witches, here to brew up concoctions to lure children into their homes. She can barely stifle a laugh, her previous demeanor melting.

It returns slightly when the Alchemist says, "I still don't approve of this, Rin. I know I can't make a decision for you, but I—you know. Want to make sure you're safe. The Festival is the domain to all things that want to rip us to pieces. Whether or not Len can be trusted isn't the point; it's a matter of the things that will be surrounding you."

"We'll stay out of the crowd," Rin says. It's like she's talking to her father about being courted. "There's no need for you to worry."

He opens his mouth to say something—perhaps to yell, really, judging by the sudden creases around his mouth—but is intercepted by the door flying open on its hinges and a very indiscreet Kokone stepping into the studio, beaming. "I got a discount on bread!" she calls down the corridor, kicking the door closed behind her. There's multiple bulging supply sacks in her arms. She bustles into the kitchen and drops them onto the table.

The Alchemist releases a sharp exhale from his nose and pries his attention away from Rin, who stands there, somewhat sheepish, somewhat ashamed. Mostly angered. He was supposed to understand her, not berate her. He turns toward Kokone, summoning a smile as he makes his way over. Rin follows; her stomach is growling and bread alone could be just fine for satisfaction right now.

"I can make sandwiches," Kokone says brightly, "and some stew! I also snagged fresh milk because I know how much you love it." She looks up at the Alchemist and grins, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her fingers linger, brows drawing faintly. Then, she asks uncertainly, "Is everything alright? You...seem a little tense, Fukase." Which isn't a lie, but it isn't obvious either. That's just a magic Kokone has mastered: emotional reading. It's second nature to her.

"I'm fine," the Alchemist says. He glances beside him at Rin and sighs. To Rin's relief, he doesn't say anything about the Festival to Kokone when he rests a hand in her palm and squeezes.

"Mm. If you say so," Kokone replies. She pulls open one of the cloth bags and begins removing supplies. "So," she starts, eyeing him and Rin again, "sandwiches and stew are alright?"

"Better than alright," he says. "Thank you."

Kokone shrugs and glances up at him. "It's the least I can do for you after what you did for me," she muses, and presses her lips to his cheek. As the Alchemist flushes as red as his hair and Kokone starts laughing it off, Rin whirls back toward the counter and wonders, vaguely, what those words meant. She's never really known who Kokone is or where she came from. One day she was just here, quiet and sullen, shawl wrapped around delicate shoulders, and the Alchemist was attempting to nudge her to eat something.

He made barely an introduction to Rin other than, "This is Kokone. Play nice," and Rin did just that. She enjoyed Kokone's company—still does. Soon enough, Kokone had just—moved in. Squeezed her way into the Alchemist's home, learning the trade of alchemy and magic from him. In some kind of a way, she reminded Rin of Yuki, warm and soft and kind but hidden behind an edge of malice. It was hard to see her as anything else but a sister, an extended part of her family. What that made Fukase, she wasn't sure. But being around them all the same soothes her, even amid the tension that can occasionally come with working for one of the Greats.

Rin bites roughly on her lip as she tries again to recall where Kokone came from. The Alchemist has mentioned something about the situation maybe once, but it's far away and distant in Rin's mind. She can't think straight with Len dancing around in her future anyways, so she drops it, focusing instead on reaching for a list that's tacked to the cabinet door. She skims over it and jumps when the Alchemist plucks it away from her, smirking.

"What, think you can make any of these without my help?" he says. "You novice, you. So naive."

Rin thanks him mentally for disregarding the subject of the Festival completely now that Kokone is scurrying around preparing a meal, intent on listening in. "I was just checking to see what you have up your sleeve for today," she replies, resting her chin on her fist.

"Just some orders from—around. I thought they'd be a good enough challenge for you to work on." He sets the list in between the both of them and scoops something up, drizzling it into the bottom of the cauldron as he reads.

"I didn't even know you still took orders," Rin says.

The Alchemist clicks his tongue. "Only sometimes," he replies. "It's mainly for your sake, anyways. You need the practice."

"I guess." (Rin has been improving rapidly over the last few months without using orders to her benefit but she doesn't feel like mentioning this.) "Well. Let's get to it, then."

"Of course," the Alchemist agrees. "Let's get to it, indeed."

.

They end the day with three out of five of the items on the list completed. Rin is sweating heavily, the effects of alchemy leaving her fatigued and hungry even after the massive lunch Kokone prepared. She wipes her brow with a loose piece of fabric by the kitchen table, taking deep breaths. Her body is trembling with the overwhelming pain of trying to use magic (And failing). She leans against the countertop and closes her eyes, opening them only when the Alchemist pushes a glass of water into her hands. "Drink," he says simply.

Rin doesn't feel as thirsty as she does hungry, but once she lifts the glass to her lips, she drinks the entire thing in less than ten seconds, spilling a handful of it down her chin. With a groan, she sets the glass down and dries her face with the back of her arm. "Sorry," she mumbles, "for...messing up on that last one. I got distracted."

"It's not a big deal," the Alchemist says, crossing his arms. His gaze is speculative as it roams her features. "The other three took something massive out of your stamina, which is—very unlike you. Kanon said that the medicines she's been giving you have been helping with your magical stamina, but that just doesn't seem so."

"Yes, it does seem that way." Rin frowns and scratches idly at her cheek. "I think my magic is just deficient. Something about that were just...did something, like the wyvern did to you. It's getting worse. And—" Rin cuts herself off abruptly, wincing. She isn't sure telling the Alchemist of Len's assistance to that issue would be encouraging him anymore to let her see him again. He raises an eyebrow at her, suggestive, and Rin curses under her breath as she adds, "Len can help me with that, Fukase. When I saw him the other day, he touched my wrist and I could wield magic a thousand times better than I've ever been able to before then."

The Alchemist's eyebrows lift the slightest bit. "You're...serious with that?"

"I am. Why wouldn't I be?" Rin says, shaking her head. "He can help. I'm sure he can. He'll give me the knack for my magic back. I guarantee it."

"You can't guarantee anything," the Alchemist says. He moves past her to begin tidying up the studio workspace, scrubbing the cauldron wildly and setting the packaged elixirs in a cabinet to be delivered later on. "But. _But_ , if you want to see him, then I'm not going to stop you." He smiles at Rin over his shoulder and tilts his head. "Be careful, yeah? And have fun."

Rin, finding herself lacking in any other function, gapes. A long time later, she manages to say, "Are _you_ serious?"

"As serious as I can be."

"That isn't much."

"But it's enough."

Rin laughs. "It is," she agrees. "Thank you. Immensely. Although, you know, I would have gone without your permission."

"I'm aware," he says, tugging on her bow affectionately. "Which is why I decided it's best to just go along with your stupid scheme rather than ruin you for it."

"Oh, ah, then...in this case...Do you know where the great treefolk oak is? Len said something about that being our meeting place, and—"

"Erodyjan?"

"What?"

The Alchemist sighs. "The treefolk you're looking for. His name is Erodyjan. I've had a few scuffles with him in past years."

"He's a tree."

"Tree _folk_ , Rinny. It's different. He's half-human. Sort of. Quarter-human?"

"You're making a fool out of yourself."

"I really am," the Alchemist groans, kneading his face with his hands. "Regardless," he continues, opening his fingers to look through them, "Erodyjan resides just north of here. I'll light you a path, if you need me to."

Rin smiles. "I'd appreciate it," she says, advancing toward the exiting corridor. "I will see you tomorrow!"

"Hopefully," the Alchemist says. "Be careful!"

"I will, I will! Quit worrying."

"I'm trying, Rin, but you're still a kid to me," he says, rolling his shoulders back. He eyes the lounge where Kokone passed out asleep hours ago, defeated.

"I'm sixteen now, you know. I can worry about myself," Rin says, but her mentor just doesn't buy it. "I'll be here tomorrow. You know I will," she adds.

He nods. "I know."

"Of course you do," Rin agrees. She closes the door behind her before she can let another traitorous word escape her lips.

.

The magical trail the Alchemist has established from orbs of shimmering blue light leads Rin directly to Erodyjan just after dusk. She halts beside his dozing figure, waiting for the orbs to dissipate before she clears her throat in high hopes to awaken him. Erodyjan sleeps on, the leaves of his branches rustling in the forthcoming wind, the elder face of his bark weary and distressed.

Rin sits near one of his roots instead of bothering him and waits impatiently for Len's arrival, chin resting on her knees. At least a half an hour goes by before Len manifests before her, apologizing frantically about being late. Rin brushes it off, telling him it's fine as she stands, yawning.

"I'm glad you made it here alright," Len says, staring wildly into her eyes. "Were you waiting long?"

"No. Not particularly," Rin responds. She adjusts her bow and her tunic, clutching her staff tightly. "What held you up?"

Len recoils like he might spit. "Merli," he snarls. "A hamadryad, she—no boundaries, that one."

"A friend of yours?" Rin queries.

"Unfortunately. It isn't as if I can have many when the vast majority of the Leering Wood despises me. I take what I can get." He addresses Rin curiously, brow raised. "Sometimes more," he murmurs, turning on his heel. "Come on."

Rin clenches her free hand into a fist, mutters a farewell to Erodyjan, and bustles swiftly after Len into the approaching darkness of the forest. "That bird you sent this morning," she says, matching strides with him. "Does he belong to you?"

"No. Birds just like me. Sparrows especially."

"Even as a male nymph, you can speak to animals, can't you?"

"Yes. I...am not always fond of it, though." He grins, nudging Rin with his elbow. "They can say some strange things. I met a deer that, even when understood, only spoke in Gibberish. It was bizarre."

"Tell me about Kaito," Rin says, an abrupt change in subject that slaps the smile right off of Len's face. She almost feels bad, but she's eager for the knowledge.

"We're not even at the Festival yet," Len mumbles. "Patience."

Rin rocks back on her heels as they walk, prickling with a wave of enthusiasm. This is what she's been anticipating for days, and now that it's here, she has no idea what to do with herself. She's jittery and anxious, and Len is reciprocating that demeanor as they walk, curling and uncurling his fingers, gnawing on his lips. He looks different without sunlight pooling around him, more like what he really is than a peculiar entity of the Fae.

"What's Merli like?" Rin asks, disliking the silence that has blossomed between them. Len shoots her a look, tilting his head, fueling Rin to explain further, but he cuts her off with a smile and a wave of his hand, confusion gone.

"Right, right. Merli. I forgot I brought her up, aha. I'm all out of sorts." He flicks a vine from his hair, sighing. "The hamadryad are always nuisances, pestering and thinking they know everything. She's hardly any different, nor is her sister, of whom I stray from. However, Merli—bothersome as she may be—showed me kindness after my apparent persecution, if kindness is even the word for it. She's as close to a friend as I've had in a long time."

"It must get lonely," Rin says.

Len raises his shoulders in a half shrug. "No, I don't find that it does. I actually don't mind the solitude," he says. He eyes Rin from the corner of his peripheral and laughs. "Don't look so surprised! Wouldn't you enjoy some peace and quiet every now and again, too?"

"Of course! I just...I'm not quite sure. With everything that's happened to you, I—it's odd, thinking of you as enjoying that solitude."

"Oh. Hm. If anything, that's just made me used to the solitude, not...having Kaito around, or...something." Len frowns and clenches his fists, a thorn prodding into his skin. "At least I have you around now? You're enjoyable company."

"Am I?" Rin says, feeling her face flush.

Len hums, grazing his fingers to Rin's shoulder. "I doubt I would have invited you out with me tonight if you weren't," he says pleasantly.

Rin's lips twist upward, and her heart speeds in her chest. She likes Len when he smiles like this, hopeful and endearing. "You're not quite so bad yourself," she says when he seems desperate for an answer.

"I should introduce you to Merli some time. The two of you would hit it off, I'd bet."

"She won't be at the Festival?"

"No, never," Len snorts. "She's too snobby for them. Thinks she's out of their league."

Rin blinks. "Interesting," she says slowly.

They walk on in a charming quiet that Rin doesn't feel lost in. There's the drumming of their feet and their soft breathing and the breeze pushing past their hurried figures, but aside from that, nothing, just the docility of the Leering Wood in the evening. As they near the Festival, Rin hears laughter and singing and music, and Len grips her arm, yanking her to a halt.

He wheels her to face him, hands firm on her shoulders. He examines her clothing, pulling on her tunic, fluffing her hair, assessing himself partially in the process. "Okay," he murmurs when he steps back, smiling lucidly. "We're decent."

Rin, somewhat self-conscious now, wraps her arms around her torso. Her shoulders are sizzling and her staff is subtly gleaming at its hilt. "We have to be decent-looking to get in?" she asks scornfully.

"No. I just prefer visible decency when I'm in the midst of those who would like to kill me and my companion at once. They don't take kindly to mortals, hadn't you realized," Len says. He adjusts his ponytail, a petal drifting from his elbow as he leads Rin out into a vast clearing.

"I realized, alright," Rin mutters, but the words are swallowed by the sudden volume exploding in her ears, and the intensity of the lights blinding her vision. She unintentionally grips Len's hand, startled, and he holds her palm soothingly, though Rin can see he's smiling (Why wouldn't he be? This is home, these are his people, no matter what he says otherwise). When Rin's vision clears, she sees that the world is so beautiful here, so much more beautiful than she could have ever remembered it to be.

There are magic lanterns strewn between tree branches, shining shades of blue and red and yellow all across the night sky, pouring it onto the grass. Elves and nymphs and hamadryad waltz upon a stage, singing and strumming harps with long, elegant fingers. The music is entrancing; Len has to physically drag Rin away from the source after she's started hovering near it. Around them are banquets and feasts that emit a glorious, mouth-watering smell that once again has Rin's attention captured. Pixies and sprites flutter around aimlessly, stealing wine from ogres and blaming one antic on another of their kind.

Someone takes Rin by the arm, and it isn't Len. She teeters back into unfamiliar arms, being whirled around by a tall nymph with flowing lilac hair before she has the chance to catch her breath. The nymph giggles, her eyes sparkling as she draws Rin to her chest. Her skin is searing with warmth, her thin grey dress ruffling against Rin's shaking legs.

"You smell like they all do," the nymph says, eyes half-lidded as she smiles down at Rin. "Don't you?"

"Um—" Rin blushes fervently as the nymph's hand crawls to the small of her back, holding her firmly in place, pulling her along for a dance. "I don't—I'm with him—you, I—"

"A dance won't kill you! Come on, just a round, just one, you'll love it once you're engaged in it. Follow my lead, it's so simple!"

"I've—no, wait, wait!" But the nymph isn't waiting (They never seem to). She spins Rin gracefully on her heel, doubles back, and spins with her gathered close to her body. She smells of lavender and salt water, and something else Rin can't place; it's metallic and harsh, enough to sting her nostrils when she breathes in too much of it...and then she realizes it's the sickening scent of blood, and this nymph might have the capability to eat her alive.

Just as panic threatens to choke Rin out, a vine snakes around the nymph's wrist and furiously tears her off of Rin. A second crawls up her thigh, her ankles, securing her in place, and Len sidles up beside Rin breathless, glaring at the nymph with disdain. "Meiji," he spits. "Mind not trying to seduce the mortals?"

"Mortal?" Meiji's eyebrows fly up. "She's yours? My, my." She grins. Maybe it's an illusion of Fae magic, but Rin thinks she sees a thousand teeth in that mouth. "You have a marvelous taste."

Len scoffs. "I'm not like that, witch. You know that by now."

"Boohoo! No fair, hogging it to yourself without sharing when you don't even want it." She writhes in her restraints, and Len raises a hand; they tighten enough that she begins to bleed. Rin staggers backward. He catches her by her hip.

"Don't you have that mutt of yours to entertain now?" Len says, stepping away with Rin firmly in his grip.

"Zuiga? Oh, please. As if I'd bother with him at a Festival. You think I'm that careless?"

Len, bemused, veers from the conversation with Rin on his heels, rushing with a burst of stamina at his lasting touch. "Before you ask," Len says, irritated, "she isn't a nymph, no. She's a witch that likes to give us a bad reputation, is all. She's, as far as I'm concerned, a filthy succubus, too. I despise her."

"She smelled like blood," Rin whispers.

"Yes. She's something else, that she is."

They arrive at a corner of the clearing. Len glances around, relief flooding his features. "Well," he appends, "now that we have that out of the way." He smirks at Rin and extends a hand toward her. "Would you care to dance?"

Rin takes his hand unsurely at first, but by the time he's closing the distance that lingers between their bodies, she knows exactly what she wants (Doesn't she?). "Dance?" she murmurs, just to spite him, looping an arm around his neck. It's much more comfortable with him than it had been with Meiji, for obvious reasons. "I thought we were here to talk about Kaito."

"We can do that after," Len says, his breath hot on Rin's face. "But I would really like to make sure I do this before we even approach that topic."

"Me, too," Rin murmurs softly. "But I don't know how to dance."

"It isn't hard." With a swift movement, Len brings Rin taut to his chest, where she feels like she fits. "I can teach you."

"Please," Rin says, beaming at him, the implications of everything dark, everything evil fleeing from her memory. There's no Algeroth when Len is in her proximity, no Oracle and no corruption. There is only him, brilliant and wonderful and hopelessly far out of Rin's reach, the way she likes it.

"Lead the way."

* * *

 **This took me forever to write but here it is and I hope all of you have supported me thus far through this story enjoy it! Rin is very cute n' im love her end my suffering,, LenRin has taken over my life.**

 **I apologize for any grammatical/spelling errors, high school is exhausting and I have grown lazy to beta-ing my stuff ewe**

 **Leave a review if you'd like, but if not: until next time!~**


	4. the love he failed to save

Len is a dancer by way of his race, elegant and graceful, transitioning smoothly from one motion to another. He keeps his lips close to Rin's ear as he sweeps left, then right, his arm taut around her slender waist. Not once does he stumble nor trip nor falter, while Rin is something of the complete opposite, too distracted by their close propinquity to think of what she's doing with her feet. They trip over one another, over Len's, and Rin hardly notices. This is all so overwhelming, in the best of ways.

When she's least expecting it, he slips his fingers around hers, holding tightly, and spins her. The breath flees from Rin's lungs as she lifts one leg partially, allowing herself to be twirled again and again, tunic flying wildly around her. The trees begin to grow into a blur of colors, dizzying. She closes her eyes, lets the wind and music streaking through her body soothe her.

Abruptly, she is pulled back into Len's arms. He's grinning, mouth against her ear as it should be when he says, "You're not too shabby for being a beginner." A lie—she's horrible—but Rin smiles anyway, giggling, swaying into the gyration of Len's body. If she's not mistaken, the flowers exposed on his neck, collarbone and wrists are flourishing vivaciously, trailing petals around him from head to toe (Which means something, right? But what? That he's happy, pleased, enjoying Rin's company? Because she's sure enjoying his). Rin is tempted to pluck a flower from off Len's body and take it in her fingers, like a temporary reminiscence.

She doesn't get the chance, as he does it for her. He must notice her staring (Rin doesn't know how to be subtle about hiding it), so he takes a tulip from off his neck and guides it to her hair, where, amid their slowing fluent motions, he braids it into the soft golden strands. "Pretty," Rin muses under her breath, managing to catch the lavender hue out of the corner of her periphery every so often.

"Thank you," Len says, almost cockily, and it makes Rin laugh painfully hard. He offers a giggle himself and spins her twice more before the song present melts lucidly into another. Rin wants to keep dancing, wants to stay here forever—with Len, with the Festival and the Fae and the Leering Wood—but Len doesn't allow this. He takes her and teeters toward the treeline, weaving in between roots jutting from loose soil and scattered branches.

"Sorry," he says a long while later, "for getting out of there so quickly. If we stayed any longer, we would have never left. The elves are tricky like that. Pesky with their music."

"I was wondering why it seemed like none of the songs stopped," Rin says, glancing at she and Len's clasped palms. "Or why one song was so long."

Len smiles. "Yes, the elves do that—love doing it, really. It's a way for them to ensure no one leaves, a method of hypnotism." He ponders this for a heartbeat, answering Rin's unasked question. "Because they're sadistic, and odd. I've never gotten along well with the elves, especially after one tried to slit my throat," he says, and stops walking, slipping his fingers from Rin's hand, nonchalantly observing the area.

Beside him, Rin openly gapes. "An elf attempted to kill you?" she asks.

"I deserved it, to be fair. I think." Len shrugs. He purses his lips, nods, and gestures to Rin, then proceeds to clamber down a slope to his right, disappearing into weeds and crumbling boulders. Rin huffs and follows him, her feet catching on slackened gravel. She keeps slipping, and eventually, sick of trying to stay upright, Rin tumbles down the slope, curling her knees tightly to her chest.

She lands on a pad of cushioned dirt, sprawled on her back. Upon opening her eyes, she sees Len hovering over her, grinning cheekily.

"Graceful," he comments, offering a hand.

Rin rolls her eyes and shifts to accept; she actually yelps when Len draws his arm back and she flies to her feet, stunned by the strength he doesn't really look like he's capable of possessing for being a literal flower boy. Before Rin can keel over over from her surprised staggering, Len catches her, steadying her balance. He wipes some dirt off of her forehead and steps back into darkness.

"Why here?" Rin asks when she has composed herself. She reaches for the tulip to make certain that it's still twined into her hair, delighted when she finds that it is, and didn't unhinge during her little scuffle with the slope.

"I'm glad you asked," Len says. He lowers himself into a graceful bow, then sweeps a hand along the grass. He arches himself upward, the same hand raised over his head, the other wrapped around his chest. Slowly, he brings his left foot to his right knee and tilts his head back, exhaling softly. It is at that moment that a swarm of fireflies slips from the wood around them, fluttering quaintly toward Len's outstretched hand.

Rin stumbles backward in awe, the breath rushing from her lungs. The forest has gone alight in the glow of a golden storm, nothing left touched by darkness.

Len pivots backwards, his spine lurching and fingertips expelling outward. Curiously, the insects he's attracted the attention of follow, swirling around him and obscuring all but the outline of his silhouette. Rin can't quite see what he's doing until the fireflies surge toward the treeline in the formation of a whirlpool, illuminating slices of Rin's bright, wide eyes as she stares gaping up at the sky, fingers twitching behind her ears.

Piercing and auroral in the blackened veil of the night sky, the fireflies could so easily be mistaken for a meteor shower. They have such a supernatural ambiance to them, set in the way they dip down in waves, only to glide right up into line again as if this is what they've been doing for their entire minuscule lives.

Len's eyelashes flutter as he pirouettes his way to Rin, eliciting a delicate smile from the both of them when he leads her dancing into the center of the clearing. That familiar energy renders Rin speechless when it bites into her veins, and she feels herself going nebulous, unsure of her whereabouts in the consummation of magic her body has now fallen victim to being unused to.

"You like it?" Len says breathlessly, leading Rin in a very half-hearted waltz.

Rin nods. It's the best that she can do.

"I can make it better," Len says, "with your help."

"My staff," Rin says, tipping her chin toward where it's been left discarded in the dirt, glittering in a frenzy of the firefly's own dance.

"You won't need it," Len reassures, then: " _Fluere folio_!"

Rin jolts at the accent Len puts into the spell, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on edge. She feels a pulsing underneath layers of skin, a pull in her heart that is magnified when she sees the kindling of green set ablaze in Len's eyes; the grass beneath their feet lengthens, twirling in a gentle breeze, and on the branches of every tree, leaves dying are revived into life once more. Flowers bloom and bloom and _bloom_ on each one until the petals burst off, and a flurry of them caper around the two figures lingering exactly where they should and shouldn't be.

In the distance, Rin hears the music of the elves increase in pace and volume. Len must, too, because he tugs Rin with him backward, humming another tune under his breath. It has no real rhythm, no beat, no particular purpose other than to distract, and Rin finds it alleviating. She watches as a petal catches in Len's hair, supplanted by a second, and a third, shed from the trees in a variety of colors.

"You—" Rin sucks in a deep breath and lets it out evenly, trying to gather her bearings. Obtaining magic like this is no different from being inebriated, completely intoxicated on the essence. "You...took Kaito here, didn't you? And—showed him this, too."

Len lofts a brow. "What makes you assume that?"

"Nothing makes me assume it," Rin says, smiling. "I have no assumptions. It's only the truth." (Although she doesn't know how she knows that it is.)

"And you know that _how_?" Len inquiries, his gaze sliding to the few fireflies that have loitered into the grass, buzzing by their swaying feet.

"As if I have an answer for that." Rin purses her lips, an idea resonating in her thoughts. She adds, "Though, if I could take a guess, it's your magic. Maybe it feeds more memories than it does anything else."

Len squints at their fingers, and then slowly untangles them, crossing his arms firmly behind his back. Rin ogles him distantly, the sensation of magic already retreating into thin air. She wants to fight for it, take his shoulders in his hands and withdraw his magic because she feels so lost without it, so hopeless, and she finds herself cursing that were in her head and gritting her teeth and—

Len yells and topples over, snapping Rin out of a stupor. Her eyes blow wide, and a force hits her so roughly that it knocks her off her feet as well, sending her sprawling out into the grass, gasping for oxygen. She fists her fingers into the front of her tunic and quivers, seething with energy that doesn't belong to her.

Energy that she stole.

Across from her, Len sits up and clambers to her side. The fireflies have begun to flee and the petals are wilting. Len looks so much paler in the muted glow of moonlight (And perhaps a little scared?). "Rin," he says. He reaches out to touch her but recoils against it, wincing.

"I just—" Rin gawks with a horrified countenance, the impulse to cry overwhelming her. "I didn't mean—to do that, whatever I just did, I—"

"You stole my magic," Len says, avoiding eye contact at all costs, biting one of his knuckles. "You—took it. Without even having the necessity to touch me that time, you usurped it. Forcibly." He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, an entire elegant show in and of itself.

"I've never done that before," Rin whispers. She props herself onto her elbows, breathing haggardly. "Len."

"This is an ability only Fae, sorcerers and the Oracle possess, Rin. Alchemists can't usurp magic," Len says. "And they most certainly cannot obtain memories or passive cognition, either. You did something you shouldn't be able to do. Something even most nymphs are not capable of doing."

"You can't?" Rin asks airily.

"No," Len says, frowning, "nor would I ever want to. It's a sickening thing to steal magic. Borrowing is yet another matter, an acceptable one under terms, but—this, you cannot do. Stealing it." He hesitantly touches Rin's shoulder. They both flinch, but don't move away.

Rin shakes her head indifferently. "I wasn't controlling it," she says. "I thought something, and it was so slight, so measly...It never occurred to me that I could do that, or have that effect. I had no idea."

"That is the way it should be. You shouldn't have ever so much as thought you could do this." Sighing, Len withdraws, legs tucked beneath him as he cards a hand through his unkempt bangs. Rin arranges herself in a similar seating across from him, palms braced on her knees.

"Are you—mad?" Rin asks daintily, the words clogged in her mouth.

Len's lips twist as if he'll laugh; he doesn't, not really, only puffs a short, amused breath from his nose. "Not at all," he says, raising a finger tentatively. A firefly flits out from the trees and lands on his knuckle. "Only concerned for you and what this means."

"What it means...? You have ideas?" Rin says, furrowing her brow. She folds her arms around her torso, feeling very dizzy and sickened.

"I suppose. Yet for now they are unimportant and they will remain that way. I don't need to burden or worry you with them now," he says, shaking his head solemnly. "I'd much rather protect you from any sort of ill-barren fate."

Rin tenses (Ill-barren fate?). "I'm so confused," she whispers.

"I am as well," Len murmurs, dragging a fingertip underneath his lower lip. "There is certainly a strange aura blossoming inside of you."

He sounds so timorous that it sets Rin to the brink, because this doesn't feel right. Since the dawn of time, she has been normal. A civilian of Calcherth as she has always been and nothing else. Nothing more, nothing less; she doesn't want either, doesn't want to change. She doesn't want to have this twist to what has been the semblance of routine in her life. She can't. She can't hurt people, rob what belongs to them.

She is dragged back into reality when Len says, "You were right, by the way." Rin peeps up at him, aghast, and he gesticulates vaguely to stress his point. "About—Kaito, I mean. And...this. The fireflies and whatnot. I can't quite say it's an original performance."

"You must have really loved him." Rin doesn't know where that came from, but it has to be true. Rarely has she heard of nymphs falling in love—over all else, they're succubi, meant to lure mortals into the wood to do only God knows what with them—though when it comes to Len, there is little else to believe in but that he was so hopelessly, helplessly in love.

"I did," he says. He twists the stem of a leaf in between his index and thumb, expression thoughtful. "In the same way a human could love a human, I loved him."

"What—was he like?"

"Charming," Len says, without missing a beat. He smiles, not looking up. "He held himself well, but the most doltish of things flustered him. He would do this—" Len sighs and pushes the cusp of his palm against his jaw. "If he was embarrassed, he'd laugh the sweetest of laughs and touch the back of his neck, flushed red, and—he was beautiful. Utterly beautiful, enough it could kill.

"In a way," he says, "you remind me of him."

Rin goes fervent, ducking her head and trailing her fingers through the grass to wring out the rest of the magic that remains trapped beneath the skin.

Len shakes his head, side-tracked, and continues, "The other nymphs doted over him, adored him. They would weave flower crowns for him and steal his scarf to force him into following them to retrieve it. Play him music, craft him jewelry—whatever means it took to capture his attention. And yet, amid their treatment, he chose me."

"They must have despised that, the other nymphs," Rin murmurs.

Len breezes a tender laugh. "Oh, you can only imagine their agitation. I flaunted his love for me at them any chance I could," he says. And then his shoulders slump, and he sighs. "There was a mortal, however, who hated me more than any nymph ever could for what I did, as she loved Kaito more than I think he ever loved me. I...regret that, I think. Taking him away from her." He hesitates, rigid. "Had I not interfered with them," he whispers, "none of this would have happened, and Kaito would not be dead."

A daunting wind curls over their figures. Rin tightens her tunic around her torso, furrowing her brows. Her heart is aching, racing, further expanding the sickness that swallows her whole. "No, Len, that's—"

"Don't tell me otherwise," he says calmly. "I may regret leading him away from reality, but I would never regret loving him. I made my decisions; he made his." Len squeezes into his fist, and the leaf dissolves, fanning onto the ground in a spray of dust. "Some things are intended to happen. Things we cannot avoid. I couldn't have avoided my feelings, no matter what scenario. The future is determined. There is no changing it."

"That isn't true," Rin protests, straightening her posture. A flicker of anger burns in her stomach; without control over an unpredictable future, there is no structure to fall back upon. No safety net.

"What is set in stone can't be unwritten."

"Well, if you can smash the stone, then I care to disagree."

Len careens his head to the side, quirking a thin blonde brow. "Anomalous thinking," he muses, "though I can't say I don't appreciate it."

Rin averts her gaze.

"Regardless," Len says, splaying his palms out behind him for support, "Kaito was perfection and I tainted him with greediness and led him to his death with a finely forged chain, and that would be the outcome forever, ad nauseam. When a nymph falls in love with you, and you reciprocate, there is no way out. You are doomed, and I understood that, as did he. We accepted that limitation, we were alright with it." Len flops into the grass and tosses a hand at the sky, scowling. "It doesn't matter, anyway. He's gone now. I can't change that. No one can."

Silence, as if even the crickets have stilled in their motions to make way for Len's sorrow, devours them. Rin fidgets, wanting to bring the conversation elsewhere, so she blurts, "What was your first interaction with him like? I surmise you didn't save him from any weres."

"It was much less graphic than my first encounter with you, yes. It—he noticed me, was all. While the female nymphs flocked him, I lingered, and watched, and wished I could be among them. And once, he stayed until evening, when the other Fae lost interest in him, just to approach me. He planted a flower crown atop my head and gave me the most heart-wrenching smile I've ever seen in my life, saying, 'You shouldn't look so lonely'. And I think the moment our eyes met, I fell in love with him," Len says.

"He kept gravitating toward me after that, like I was the only Fae alive in these woods. He would gift me with bouquets of flowers and tell me stories about—about Calcherth. About home. Humans. What it was like there, what it was like communicating with spirits. He seldom mentioned religion for being the apprentice of the Oracle, which I found endearing. He was too considerate for his own good. Too spectacular."

Rin crawls meekly toward Len and flops onto her belly beside him, chin pressed into the dirt. "I don't know how you see likeness between he and myself," she says. "I'm nothing like that."

"You are," Len says, smiling. "Gods, you are. You two even have the same eyes. Not in color, but in hope. Determination. There is a will to progress the happiness of others in those eyes, love and compassion that a heart can't quite comprehend. Those like myself draw those like you two in."

"Those like you?" Rin echoes.

"Filthy. Deceitful. Traitorous. Never good enough."

Perplexity punches Rin in the stomach. "You aren't any of those things."

"I can't believe this," Len says, laughing without much humor. "That's exactly what he said to me once. I wonder if some of his magic linked his soul to yours after he died. Maybe he's trying to lead himself back to me through you. Wouldn't that be lovely?" Len laughs again, and it doesn't tickle Rin in butterflies like how it did earlier. It just stings now, digs a deeper rift into the wound.

"I don't know if that's possible or not," Rin says.

"Neither do I," Len murmurs, "but it would be great if it was, wouldn't it?"

"...I really don't know how I feel about sharing my soul, either."

Len chortles. "And I don't know why I keep luring in humans like this. It's a bad habit. I should work on shedding it, or I'm going to end up failing and getting you killed, too," he says.

Rin doesn't respond to this. She has no words left to speak.

They allow the peace to loll around them for as long as they can, comfortable in one another's presence and nothing else; and then Len sits up abruptly, cards a hand through his hair, and mutters something incoherent. Rin totters to her knees to better hear him, but he doesn't repeat himself until she nudges him into doing so.

"We need to begin discussing a plan," he says with a sigh, disappointed. "We have three moons from tonight to track Algeroth's illegitimate child. They could be anywhere...There's hardly much of a way to start searching."

"I mean," Rin says hesitantly, "we could...try combining our magic and using a tracking spell? Surely that could—"

"No." Firmly. Len glares at Rin from the corner of his peripheral. "We have established that that is dangerous and we can't have you doing it anymore if you can help it. It's dangerous and, frankly, it hurts like all hell, whether you're stealing it or borrowing it. We can't."

Rin grips her shoulder for security. "It could be a last resort," she says.

"No," Len repeats. "We aren't resorting to that." He coils a fistful of grass in his hands and bites his lip.

"You could communicate with other Fae," Rin suggests. "Or use animals to your advantage, gather—daresay, gossip—from them? Or...I could ask the Alchemist for assistance."

Len contemplates this momentarily, resulting to chewing on the inside of his cheek. "That...could perhaps be a last resort," Len says. "The Greats aside from Miki are talented...and all three of their apprentices are grandeur in the scheme of things. That, we can work with. But Fae are out of the question. Must I emphasize that they hate me?"

"Right, right." Rin frowns, touching her temple absently. "Ah, do we have any idea of what this...hybrid's traits are? Even a vague description, or—"

The ground quaking beneath them interrupts Rin's statement. She looks at Len for an input, but he's already hopping to his feet and scanning the area.

A second rumble has him jerking in the direction of the Festival. At once, he and Rin both realize quickly what the source of the sound is; toppling trees. The air is split by a thundering shout, and it has Rin tossing herself to her legs and bolting across the clearing to her staff, because she can't just leave it there to get trampled by whatever it is that's trekked after them; that would be ruthless to her old-time companion.

She grips it taut in her callused hands, Len flanking her. Green energy pools around his wrists, swaying up his arms and disappearing into his sleeves. "Goblins," he says when the noise halts. Fireflies are flitting about aimlessly, a reminder of what could have been that makes Rin shudder.

"Goblins?" she repeats. Not once has she has had an encounter with a goblin, barely knows what they look like except that they're nasty and angry and are always prepared to fight. And that most work at the bend and will of Algeroth as a kind of domesticated guard dog team. She peers up at Len and says, "We aren't just going to stay here, right?"

"We may have no other choice," Len mutters, slinging an arm protectively around Rin. He twitches, and Rin is tempted to withdraw, but he holds fast to her. "If there are enough to topple trees, then we stand no chance running." Then he pauses and grits his teeth. Thorns poke out of his skin, overwhelming in contrast to wilting flowers; his defense mechanism, prey hiding from its predator. "There are more than goblins," he says. "A griffin, I think. That they're chasing."

"We stand even less of a chance now, don't we? Wait, Len, how can you even _tell_?"

"Keen senses," Len says. He frowns at Rin and releases his grip on her when red eyes gleam at them from the bushes, followed by a hissing screech and the awry flutter of wings that can't quite support their weight. "I have a plan," Len says.

Rin is panicking (She thinks she's doing a good job at hiding it—though she doesn't know, considering the drastic turn of events this night has taken). "Okay," she says. One of the goblins makes a sort of snarling sound. Jagged fingernails rake against tree bark; a warning.

"I'll set a trail for you back to my home, understand? Follow it. I'm going to distract the goblins and—ah, attempt to track the griffin and heal it, if I can."

"Heal it?" Rin repeats, bewildered.

Len nods. "Yes," he says. "Heal it. You can't expect me to leave a wild creature damaged in these woods, no less a griffin. Had you no idea they're going extinct?" He blinks and scowls, shoving Rin in the other direction and spitting, " _Vestigia in domum_! _Ut quisque sua_!"

A path is suddenly illuminated by tiny blue orbs, and Rin glimpses at Len one time, her smile shaky before sprinting toward the glow, each step dispersing the bead of light behind her into a cloud of soot that catches in strands of grass.

She runs, and thinks herself as Kaito, thinks of their souls as intertwined and how ridiculous yet enticing that sounds. But Rin knows that Kaito would be running in the opposite direction, toward Len, to protect him, save him, remain as a presence by his side.

Surely someone Len could love would never be as cowardly as Rin knows she always will be.

.

The trail of glowing orbs dissipates fully when Rin reaches the entrance to Len's home. It's a miraculous thing, a discrete doorway carved into the trunk of a massive tree that looks oh-so depressing, bark a thick, dark chestnut, branches bending toward the ground, dangling ivy over Rin's head. She waves them out of her way and slips in through the door, closing it quietly behind her.

Len's home is warm and comfortable, as it always is. Rin rests her forehead against the wall of its interior and grits her teeth, wishing she'd stayed with him, no matter how useless she would have been. He did what he told her he would do and sheltered her from harm. (Not to mention, someone like Len can easily take on the challenge of swarming goblins, no problem...right?)

Although Rin has no idea what time it is, she can decipher that it's late. She should be heading home—and she could now, considering she knows her way back to Calcherth from Len's house—but she refuses to leave. She won't until Len returns here, safe and sound. And possibly accompanied by a griffin.

As she seats herself in the chair nearest the door, knees pulled to her chest, Rin wants more than anything else to be at the Festival again, dancing and mocking that Meiji character. It would be nice to bring Galaco and Leon and Yuki along, not that the former two would enjoy it very much (A distaste of crowds does that to people). Still. They deserve to be shown things and introduced to the world of the Fae to know the ying and the yang of it all. They deserve more than this.

Rin dozes off thinking about nymphs, griffins, and a family that she has fallen into quite the disconnection with. She doesn't recollect actually falling asleep until a violent squawk shatters her eardrums and she shrieks, throwing herself onto the floor and swathing her arms around herself.

"Apologies," a soothing voice says, and Rin glances up slowly, trembling. She relaxes. It's just Len, and—

And a griffin.

Rin shrieks a second time and scrambles away, pushing her back against the wall. Len only smiles and gives the vine-rope around the creature's neck a tug; it makes that horrendous noise and paws a talon through the air, agitated. It makes eye contact with Rin, and she hugs herself tighter. Griffins are too similar to wyverns for her to be alright with this (Well, not exactly _similar_ , but—something of the sort), because wyverns are deadly and nearly killed the Alchemist and a griffin could very well do the same.

"How—h-how did you even fit him through the _door_?" Rin asks, disbelieving.

"Magic," Len says whimsically. He dusts some dirt off of his slacks, exposing blood on his knuckles. The griffin nips at his hair and Len grins, stroking its neck. "He likes me, I think. Which is a first."

Rin's throat clenches. She hobbles into a standing position and takes a timid step forward. The griffin snaps its head at her and caws loudly. "You...aren't planning on keeping him, are you?"

"I'm not quite certain. I'd prefer to," Len says. "I rescued him, after all. And he _is_ still healing. He deserves a place to stay, doesn't he?" In response, the creature ruffles its feathers and collapses into a heap on the ground, nestling into a cozy sleeping stance. "He was paying the Festival a visit when those goblins chased after him."

"Did you—"

"Take care of them?" Len finishes. He releases the vine in his hands and gestures to Rin. She approaches him, footsteps unsteady. "I did," he says, "and I saved two lives whilst I was at it." He smiles. It's almost as if he's become another person. Rin is growing nervous, but she's too exhausted and maybe confused to process that emotion. She just wants to sleep, or dance a little more, or—or—

"I would have loved to meet Kaito," she says. Stupidly. "If he was anything like me, we would have gotten along, he and I, huh? I could have met you sooner, in better circumstances."

Len guides her toward the same room she slept in previously, lithe and swift, as if he wants to dash out of this conversation. "Don't ponder that too much," he says. "Under other circumstances, we would never have met at all. I wouldn't need your help if he hadn't died."

(Is that how it is? Seriously?)

"I really shouldn't be staying here," Rin says. "I should—"

"Arguing is futile." Len stands in the threshold and nods at the bed stuffed into the corner. "Sleep," he says. "You need it. We both do."

"I want to go back to the Festival," Rin mumbles.

Len cocks his head. "That's what all the mortals say. You're too infatuated with that thing. It isn't all that extravagant; it's _bland_." As Rin steps out of her boots and sets her staff aside, Len says, "What do you think his name should be?"

"Huh?" Rin sinks into the surface of the bed and tangles her fingers together, speculatively observing Len's expression. He's distracted—loopy, even, as if he'd been drinking. He's a strange nymph, and an emotional one at that.

"The griffin," Len says. "We should name him Kaito."

"Kaito?" Rin huffs, squints, and then asks the more important question, " _We_?"

"We co-own him, no? The effort was equal."

"Are you joking? Len, I ran for my life. I didn't do anything valiant for his sake. And Kaito isn't a good name for a griffin."

"Hm. Sleep on it. It will grow on you. Hopefully."

"You're acting...peculiar," Rin says, sitting up.

Len tilts his head back and smiles lamely at her. "The goblins had a kind of inebriating bane. Nothing I haven't faced before. It will wear off."

"Inebriating bane—? That's a _toxin_ , Len! The dangers and aftereffects can be severe!"

"I get a pet griffin from it," Len says. Rin notes the red rimming to his eyes. Her lips pull into a frown, but Len doesn't seem to notice nor care. "Nymphs have amazing tolerance for narcotics, Rin. Have no worries. Come tomorrow morning and it will be fine." He licks his lips and adds, "The goblins were undoubtedly sent by Meiji. I am annoyed."

"You need to get some sleep," Rin says tersely.

"Ah, I presume you're right. Do you need anything before I head off?"

 _A hold on my feelings and spiraling thoughts, is all,_ Rin doesn't say. She reels back into the bed and shakes her head. "I'll be fine," she murmurs, eyelids slinking heavily.

"If you say so," Len says. He steps into the corridor and rolls his shoulders back, a distant smile still planted on his mouth. "Sleep well." Delicately, he shuts the door behind him, and the room is flooded by darkness.

That night, Rin falls asleep to the sound of silence. She dreams about withering flowers, fireflies, and the remnants of a boy who has long since been gone, gone, gone.

* * *

 **me, crying: this chapter is so crazy _kill me._ no seriously this is bizarre, I went from Festival to discussing Kaito to Len adopting a _fucking griffin_ and getting basically _high_ in the span of, like, 5600 words. but I am proud tyty**

 **uh. it probably seems like rin and len's relationship is developing rather quickly? but that's more or less the aim, considering humans are naturally drawn to nymphs, and nymphs, being lustful and easily intrigued, are equally as drawn to humans; especially len, who has had relationships with humans in the past. so yE it isn't necessarily romantic feelings at _all_ , more of just a mutual wonder between one another, and the desire to protect each other. whether or not kaito and rin's souls are actually "intertwined" and how that affects this concept is for your contemplation ;)**

 **also after next chapter, len probably won't be seen for a while! I'm going to be focusing more on rin's relationships in calcherth and a lot of her work as the alchemist's apprentice. plus other stuff. like dealing with the fact she can, er, absorb power.**

 **sorry for the big long ramble, and sorry for any grammatical/spelling errors! hope you enjoyed this update! thank you all so so much for reading aaah! be sure to review, and if ya don't, then see you next time!~**


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